Sdiver
09-29-2014, 17:09
"Lo there do I see my Father
Lo there do I see my Mother, my Sisters and my Brothers
Lo there do I see the line of my people
Back to the beginning
Calling me to join Them
Bidding me to take my place among Them
In the Halls of Valhalla
Where the brave
May live
Forever."
“Death. The certain prospect of death could sweeten every life with a precious and fragrant drop of levity - and now you strange apothecary souls have turned it into an ill-tasting drop of poison that makes the whole of life repulsive.”
-Nietzsche
Death is a funny thing. It’s the only thing we’re all guaranteed, yet we quiver in the shadow of its foreboding mystique. It is the one sure thing we have, the end game, the coup de grace at the end of this dramatic saga of human existence - yet not only do we fear it, we suffer in its wake, lamenting the souls already harvested by reaper’s scythe. In warrior culture, specifically in modern western society, this phenomenon is even more complex, agitated by a variety of factors - personal experiences, upbringing, emotional fortitude. And perception, really. The labor of processing death in reality has more to do with our perception of it, rather than bereavement or introspection. And a warrior’s death, although a tumultuous event and while often difficult to understand, is in fact a privilege in true, undiluted warrior culture.
I’ve been in proximity to a considerable amount of death in my lifetime; abrupt, unpredictable and violent. Death has touched friends of mine. I’ve experienced loss, I’ve ended lives as well. I introduce that only for shared context, lest the theme of this article come off as heartless or even morose, which is certainly not my intent. What I would like to do is explore death from a warrior’s perspective, specifically as it relates to service members and veterans who have seen brothers fall in combat, and what it represents in terms of our existence. This is not a condensed dissertation on theology or destiny or the afterlife or anything of the sort; believe whatever you want, it is of no bearing in this context. What I’m speaking of specifically is how death is, intrinsically, a part of warrior culture - perhaps the biggest part - and should be heralded as profound; a contribution of such magnitude that it demands reverence and celebration, versus serving as a catalyst for apathy and self-diagnoses of post-traumatic stress in modern warrior communities. Yes, I know that last statement will ruffle some feathers. Yes, I know I’m being insensitive. But hear me out. Or don’t, whatever. I’m half batshit anyway.
I’ve read quite a few articles recently reflecting on PTSD in the post-GWOT American military, the causes and prevalence of it, the historical contrast of it against other conflicts, etc. I know men that struggle with this significantly. I also know people who have “PTSD” from the air conditioning being broken for 48 hours during August in the mess tent at Bagram, forcing them to endure immeasurable horrors. The point is this: since 2001, and well before, we have been - and still are - an all-volunteer military force. We all joined as individuals for our own specific reasons - idealism, patriotism, boredom - and we all accepted the terms of the contract. We all knew the stakes. If anything, many of us welcomed the test, as if facing death had the ability to grant some supernatural level of immortality. We chose this profession, and anyone who pretends to not have comprehended the potential consequences is either lying to themselves, or hopelessly absent-minded. If you are a professional gunfighter for a living, and you lose yourself in an introspective abyss of searching for meaning when a fellow gunfighter dies in battle, you should seek another trade. And if you are in the SOF community, this shouldn’t even require an explanation. The truth is this: SOF operators are warriors, and sometimes warriors die, hence the nature of their existence. And as tragic as it sounds, as hard as it is for families to comprehend, as difficult as it is for a young widow to bear the burden of explaining this dynamic to her children, the reality is that in warrior culture - authentic, unadulterated warrior culture, the rare existence of which is seldom exposed to outsiders - there is no higher achievement, no greater culmination of a body of work, no loftier bestowment of distinction and honor, than to meet death engaged in combat, fighting a worthy adversary, for a righteous cause.
This is not a new philosophy. Throughout history warrior societies have celebrated and exalted death in diverse ways, often adopting practices that would be considered extreme or even savage by modern western standards. In Micronesia during the early 19th century, Kiribati warriors, skilled in hand-to-hand combat and close-quarters fighting, conducted celebratory practices after warrior deaths, the residuals of which still exist today. When a warrior fell, his body was interred after a small ceremony, much like any common funeral. Several weeks later, however, the body was exhumed and the head removed, the skull stripped, oiled and polished, and offered tobacco and food. After the remainder of the body was re-interred, fellow tribesmen would keep the warrior’s skull on a shelf in their home, believing it to be pleasing to their native gods.
Continued at link .... http://www.oafnation.com/the-book-of-eli/2014/9/21/hail-the-slain-celebrations-of-death-in-warrior-culture?utm_content=buffera8184&utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook.com&utm_campaign=buffer
Lo there do I see my Mother, my Sisters and my Brothers
Lo there do I see the line of my people
Back to the beginning
Calling me to join Them
Bidding me to take my place among Them
In the Halls of Valhalla
Where the brave
May live
Forever."
“Death. The certain prospect of death could sweeten every life with a precious and fragrant drop of levity - and now you strange apothecary souls have turned it into an ill-tasting drop of poison that makes the whole of life repulsive.”
-Nietzsche
Death is a funny thing. It’s the only thing we’re all guaranteed, yet we quiver in the shadow of its foreboding mystique. It is the one sure thing we have, the end game, the coup de grace at the end of this dramatic saga of human existence - yet not only do we fear it, we suffer in its wake, lamenting the souls already harvested by reaper’s scythe. In warrior culture, specifically in modern western society, this phenomenon is even more complex, agitated by a variety of factors - personal experiences, upbringing, emotional fortitude. And perception, really. The labor of processing death in reality has more to do with our perception of it, rather than bereavement or introspection. And a warrior’s death, although a tumultuous event and while often difficult to understand, is in fact a privilege in true, undiluted warrior culture.
I’ve been in proximity to a considerable amount of death in my lifetime; abrupt, unpredictable and violent. Death has touched friends of mine. I’ve experienced loss, I’ve ended lives as well. I introduce that only for shared context, lest the theme of this article come off as heartless or even morose, which is certainly not my intent. What I would like to do is explore death from a warrior’s perspective, specifically as it relates to service members and veterans who have seen brothers fall in combat, and what it represents in terms of our existence. This is not a condensed dissertation on theology or destiny or the afterlife or anything of the sort; believe whatever you want, it is of no bearing in this context. What I’m speaking of specifically is how death is, intrinsically, a part of warrior culture - perhaps the biggest part - and should be heralded as profound; a contribution of such magnitude that it demands reverence and celebration, versus serving as a catalyst for apathy and self-diagnoses of post-traumatic stress in modern warrior communities. Yes, I know that last statement will ruffle some feathers. Yes, I know I’m being insensitive. But hear me out. Or don’t, whatever. I’m half batshit anyway.
I’ve read quite a few articles recently reflecting on PTSD in the post-GWOT American military, the causes and prevalence of it, the historical contrast of it against other conflicts, etc. I know men that struggle with this significantly. I also know people who have “PTSD” from the air conditioning being broken for 48 hours during August in the mess tent at Bagram, forcing them to endure immeasurable horrors. The point is this: since 2001, and well before, we have been - and still are - an all-volunteer military force. We all joined as individuals for our own specific reasons - idealism, patriotism, boredom - and we all accepted the terms of the contract. We all knew the stakes. If anything, many of us welcomed the test, as if facing death had the ability to grant some supernatural level of immortality. We chose this profession, and anyone who pretends to not have comprehended the potential consequences is either lying to themselves, or hopelessly absent-minded. If you are a professional gunfighter for a living, and you lose yourself in an introspective abyss of searching for meaning when a fellow gunfighter dies in battle, you should seek another trade. And if you are in the SOF community, this shouldn’t even require an explanation. The truth is this: SOF operators are warriors, and sometimes warriors die, hence the nature of their existence. And as tragic as it sounds, as hard as it is for families to comprehend, as difficult as it is for a young widow to bear the burden of explaining this dynamic to her children, the reality is that in warrior culture - authentic, unadulterated warrior culture, the rare existence of which is seldom exposed to outsiders - there is no higher achievement, no greater culmination of a body of work, no loftier bestowment of distinction and honor, than to meet death engaged in combat, fighting a worthy adversary, for a righteous cause.
This is not a new philosophy. Throughout history warrior societies have celebrated and exalted death in diverse ways, often adopting practices that would be considered extreme or even savage by modern western standards. In Micronesia during the early 19th century, Kiribati warriors, skilled in hand-to-hand combat and close-quarters fighting, conducted celebratory practices after warrior deaths, the residuals of which still exist today. When a warrior fell, his body was interred after a small ceremony, much like any common funeral. Several weeks later, however, the body was exhumed and the head removed, the skull stripped, oiled and polished, and offered tobacco and food. After the remainder of the body was re-interred, fellow tribesmen would keep the warrior’s skull on a shelf in their home, believing it to be pleasing to their native gods.
Continued at link .... http://www.oafnation.com/the-book-of-eli/2014/9/21/hail-the-slain-celebrations-of-death-in-warrior-culture?utm_content=buffera8184&utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook.com&utm_campaign=buffer